“Helen, was he with you all the time?” Malachi asked.
“I don’t...I don’t know. I remember lying there...my hands were bound and my feet were tied to something and I couldn’t move. He’d go away...and then he’d be back. And then he’d touch me again. So...so disgusting. I couldn’t—I couldn’t pretend. I couldn’t be what he wanted, couldn’t even pretend to be in love with him. He was very angry. My hands were still bound, but then...then he untied my feet...my ankles, I guess. He jerked me up and wrenched my hand around and...I felt one of his hands holding mine down on a table or something and then—”
She broke off with a sob.
“He cut you,” Abby said quietly.
“He cut off my finger!” Helen sobbed. “I can still hear the sound. There was a whoosh...and then I felt the slam of it...and I felt the pain. I was still blindfolded but I knew...I knew it was my finger.” She continued to sob.
“Oh, Helen!” Abby said, stroking her cheek gently. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
Malachi apologized to Abby with his eyes but she obviously understood that he had to press forward. “Helen, he took your finger while your blindfold was on. What then?”
“He dragged me along the floor,” Helen began. “Maybe...maybe there was music again. I heard a beat...tap, tap, tap. And I thought I heard laughter across the water. I—I felt the night air on my skin. I knew he had a knife and I thought he was going to stab me. But he cut the ropes—and then I was in the water. I was suddenly in the water, and I was trying so hard to swim, but I was in pain, and my arms...they were so stiff. I got the blindfold off. I...I don’t know what happened to it. I don’t even know what it looked like. I couldn’t swim. I felt so heavy, I was all tangled up in something....”
“You were found wearing a wench costume,” Malachi told her. “Do you recall changing into it, or when you were changed into it?”
Helen shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes again. “I’m so sorry. I should just be grateful to be alive!”
“Helen, it’s okay,” Abby said. “You were assaulted, you were nearly killed. That’s a terrible trauma, and you’ll probably need counseling to get over it. But don’t worry now. You’re safe here, protected by people who’d die before they let anything else happen to you!”
“I owe you both my life,” Helen said.
“You owe your life to your own will and strength, Helen,” Malachi said firmly. “You are a survivor. You’re going to be fine. And don’t apologize for the pain you feel, and don’t ever apologize for crying. You have real inner strength, and you’re going to get through this.”
Helen managed a shaky smile.
There was a knock at the door. A tall, brawny male nurse was there; Malachi wondered if he’d been specially chosen to watch over Helen, just in case there was trouble. He didn’t doubt that Jackson Crow might have seen to such a thing.
“There are a few people out here asking to see Ms. Long,” the nurse announced.
“Oh?”
“I told them only two at a time. There’s a fellow out here named Roger English and a couple of others—Jack Winston and Blake Stewart.” He shrugged. “Earlier, they said it was fine for Mr. Johansen to see her with his friends. But I was told to check with whoever’s here from enforcement.”
Malachi could see that Abby was about to get up and prevent anyone from coming near Helen.
“Abby, could you talk to Roger for a minute? Tell him Helen’s had it very rough and that he shouldn’t push her. I think it’s okay for the other two gentlemen to come in right away. But, of course, that’s up to Helen.” He turned to her.
Helen nodded. “Yes, of course. I want to see my friends, but I— Abby? Would you run that brush through my hair?”
“Of course!” Abby hastened to do as she was asked.
When she was finished, Helen said, “How silly—I’m lucky to have my life and I’m worried about how I look.”
“That’s not silly,” Malachi assured her. “That’s life-affirming.”
“And you look beautiful,” Abby said.
“Wenches are supposed to be tough, aren’t they?” Helen asked.
Abby smiled, glanced at Malachi and hurried out. A minute later, the two young actors who worked for Dirk came into the room. Malachi studied them. They looked very different from the way they had when he’d seen them on the Black Swan.
Jack Winston, the older and more confident of the two, was dressed in a T-shirt that advertised Guinness and a pair of stylishly threadbare jeans. He was well-built and had a naturally cocky way about him, but his eyes were filled with tenderness as he walked in. Blake was younger and his heart appeared to be prominently displayed on his sleeve as he followed Jack. Tall and lanky, he wore jeans as well, but had on a polo shirt.
“Helen!” Jack said.
“Hi,” Blake greeted her. Jack kissed Helen on the cheek; Blake stood awkwardly beside the bed.